


You Kept The Lens In My Camera Safe

by backitup_baby



Category: Glee, Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:58:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backitup_baby/pseuds/backitup_baby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>QUINN: Yes. Well. I saw that you’d made a point of saying that you wouldn’t answer questions about me.<br/>SANTANA: That’s still very much the case, Quinn.<br/>QUINN: My question is. I’d like to inquire why you’ve put a moratorium on discussing me. If there’s nothing between us, that is.<br/>SANTANA: (visibly irritated) Because there is nothing between us. There’s no ‘if’ about it. And I think it’s incredibly presumptuous, which is just so typical of you, to think that you can call my personal cell phone and try to go around the one clear restriction that I put on this Q&A.</p><p>--</p><p>In which Santana Lopez hosts the popular YouTube video diary, "Straight Up Snix," detailing the trials and tribulations of her encounters with Quinn Fabray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Kept The Lens In My Camera Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Quinntana Week 2013: Free Day; this is a crossover with the Lizzie Bennet Diaries and, thus, by extrapolation, Pride & Prejudice. Title is from "Click Click Click" by New Kids On The Block.
> 
> Quinn makes one judge-y, slut-shame-y comment at the beginning and gets called out on it by Santana, but TW just in case.

**UPLOADED DECEMBER 4, 2012**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – DAY**

A sparsely decorated bedroom. Photos of friends and family line the walls. The bed is unmade but not overly messy.

We enter mid-range on a young woman with dark hair and dark eyes – SANTANA. She looks confident, composed, and there’s a gleam in her eyes as she looks directly into the camera and begins to speak.

SANTANA

> If you’re anything like me, you know something missing from YouTube - _attitude_. My name’s Santana Lopez and this is _Straight Up Snix,_ my video diary where I give you the latest in what’s going on in the greatest city in the world. I’m a television and film major at NYU and thanks to my addiction – I mean, _passion_ – for reality television, I thought I’d experiment with turning the camera on myself for a little bit, just to see what it’s like. And on _Straight Up Snix_ we’re gonna get real, we’re gonna get dirty, we’re –

The door OPENS behind her and we see another woman come in. She looks to be the same age as Santana. This is her stepsister, RACHEL. She moves to stand to the left, slightly behind Santana, and looks curiously at the camera.

RACHEL  
(cautiously)

> Santana? What are you doing?

SANTANA  
(already exasperated)

> God, Berry, get out of my _room_! 

Rachel stays put. She’s still looking directly at the camera, though she’s starting to grow more comfortable with it as she remains on-screen and the full realization of what, exactly, Santana’s doing hits her.

Santana turns her head to look at Rachel, daring her silently. Rachel looks away from the camera for a moment to smile sweetly at Santana before looking back at the camera.

RACHEL  
(with more confidence)

> Every protagonist needs a best friend. And as yours –

SANTANA

> You’re not my best friend.

RACHEL

> That’s not true, and you know it. _Anyway_ , as I was saying, as your best friend I’ve decided that if you’re going to be videotaping your life for the masses, you might as well involve me in it, too. Since I play a very important role in your life as your best friend and sister.

Santana makes a ‘kill me now’ gesture to the camera.

SANTANA

> Fine. 

Then, accepting this, she sighs and raises her eyebrows, almost challengingly, at the virtual viewers.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> Welcome to _Straight Up Snix._

**UPLOADED DECEMBER 20, 2012**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT**

We’re in the same room as before. SANTANA is wearing a dress – it’s black and though we can only see the upper half of her torso and face, it’s clear that the dress was designed and fitted to show off her curves. 

RACHEL is to her right and is just as dressed up as Santana’s. Her dress is a navy blue, with a more conservative neckline and fit in comparison.

SANTANA

> What a _fucking_ night. We just got back from a party, thrown by one of Rachel’s friends downtown to celebrate the end of the semester. I –

RACHEL  
(interrupting)

> Santana, do you really think that your language is appropriate? You never know who’s going to be watching these.

SANTANA

> Number one, I don’t care. Number two…

Santana cocks her head to the side slightly, a puzzled expression on her face.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> Fuck. I forgot what I was going to fucking say.

Rachel rolls her eyes, visibly and perhaps exaggeratedly.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> Oh. I know. So, even though this girl loves to party, it’s cold as hell tonight in New York. Fucking December. Fucking _winter_. Because of that, I’ll be the first to admit that I was maybe not in the _best_ mood tonight. However, I overheard this bitch, Quinn Fabray, _totally_ shittalking me and let me tell you something, Snix does _not_ stand for that.

RACHEL

> She’s friends with one of my friends’ friends. Kurt Hummel, who goes to school with me at NYADA - hi, Kurt!

Rachel waves at the camera before remembering and continuing onwards.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

> Kurt’s friends with Blaine Anderson, who’s friends with Quinn Fabray, so Blaine brought Quinn along and –

SANTANA

> This bitch is _standing_ in the corner with her snooty ass friend Blaine – I don’t understand _what_ Kurt sees in _him_ – when I walk by and hear her say –

**JUMP CUT TO:**

SANTANA is by herself in the frame, now, wearing a pair of sunglasses.

SANTANA (AS QUINN)  
(affecting a snotty, ‘upper class’ accent)

> How much longer do you want to stay, Blaine? The people here are so uncivilized. Look at her dress – how trashy is that? In an outfit like that, she might as well be walking the streets, trolling for customers. Am I right?

**JUMP CUT TO:**

The same shot we saw a few moments ago: SANTANA and RACHEL sitting side by side.

RACHEL

> Completely uncalled for.

SANTANA

> _Right_? Let me repeat, her name is Quinn Fabray. Let’s see you social justice internet warriors find this slut shaming bitch and give her what for.

Rachel looks uncertainly at the camera, then turns to give Santana a questioning look.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> What?

RACHEL

> I don’t think we’re supposed to really use the word ‘bitch’. You know, feminism.

Santana shrugs, grinning at the camera.

SANTANA

> Snix says what she wants. Merry Christmas, y’all. Except for you, Quinn Fabray, wherever you are. Thank fuck I never have to see you again. I wouldn’t want you to have to wash your eyes out with acid because you saw me and my trashy, hoochie clothes.

**UPLOADED JANUARY 14, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT**

SANTANA stares down the camera; the look on her face is completely, unwaveringly serious.

SANTANA

> Houston? It’s Snix here, and we’ve got a fucking problem. Guess who’s in Advanced Film Production Workshop II with me?  
>   
>  You got it – the one and only ice queen snobby snot extraordinaire, Quinn Fabray. Turns out her skinny ass is majoring in journalism here at Carter, which is NYU’s ‘Journalism Institute.’ Even the name of her school sounds pretentious.  
>   
>  Okay, not that ‘Tisch School of the Arts’ is any better. Either way you slice it, NYU’s got some dumb ass school names. Anyway, though, _not_ the point. 

**JUMP CUT TO:**

RACHEL is in the frame now, too. She’s wearing the same oversized pair of sunglasses Santana used last time and is doing her best to cultivate a bored expression on her face.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)  
(abruptly)

> I do believe we’ve met before.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Yeah, at a party last month. We didn’t exactly _meet_ , but you probably remember me ‘cause you kept staring at me while you commented about how trashy I looked in my dress.

There’s a prolonged pause.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I recall, now.  
>   
>  Do you go to school here?

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)  
(disbelieving)

> Are you in the right place? 

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> This is… Advanced Film Production Workshop II, is it not? With Professor Beatty?

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> No shit it is. 

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> Good. I’m in the right place, then.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Mmhmm. On NYU’s campus. And if you’re enrolled in this class, then you know it’s a senior-level course. 

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I… I don’t quite follow what you’re trying to say.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Of fucking _course_ I go to school here.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> Ah. Um, yes. That is a reasonable conclusion for one to adopt, then. I… congratulations.

**JUMP CUT TO:**

RACHEL is no longer wearing the sunglasses as she turns to address SANTANA.

RACHEL

> Did she really say ‘congratulations’? 

SANTANA

> Sure fucking did! She probably thinks I’m like, some inner-city Latino charity case who got into NYU thanks to affirmative action and some brown kid scholarship.

RACHEL

> That’s appalling.

The two of them high five.

**UPLOADED FEBRUARY 11, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT**

It’s just SANTANA in the frame today. She looks visibly on-edge, almost hyper with anxiety. After she cues up the webcam to begin recording, she begins talking immediately.

SANTANA

> I only have a few moments today, but for some reason I felt like updating all of you idiot assholes who keep commenting on YouTube saying, “Has anything else happened with Quinn Fabray?” Like, why the fuck do you care about _that_ bitch?  
>   
>  Okay, I do have an update, though. We got paired on a project together, to produce a ten minute video of our choosing. It might _sound_ short, but it’ll mean a lot of time spent with everyone’s favorite racist, classist ice queen. I can’t _wait!_

**JUMP CUT TO:**

SANTANA

> I just rewatched it and this video is short as hell. I know that I could’ve just updated my Twitter to let y’all know, but for some reason I felt like I had to actually… turn on iMovie and share it with you this way. It’s weird. I’ve never actually met any of you, but it seemed almost like… if I don’t share it with you in my video diary, it wouldn’t actually be a real update. Maybe this video diary thing is becoming a bigger part of my life than I thought it would.  
>   
>  Also, for those of you who’re talking about it like Quinn and I would make a cute couple, I’m about to get real on your asses. I commend y’all on your badass gaydar, seeing as how the only straight I am is straight up Snix, but there’s _no_ way that Quinn Fabray likes girls. And even if she did, she’s so not my type and I’m so not hers. End of story.

**UPLOADED FEBRUARY 14, 2013**

**INT. TISCH CLASSROOM – DAY**

We’re in a new location now. The whiteboard behind SANTANA makes it clear that it’s one of the classrooms at NYU. It’s empty, except for our protagonist, and the clock above the whiteboard reads 2:50 PM.

SANTANA

> This is going to have to be another short one. I’m meeting Quinn in a few minutes, at 3, to start planning out our video. What a shitty way to spend Valentine’s Day, right? Not that I’m dating anyone.

The door OPENS behind Santana then and a blond WOMAN, immaculately dressed, walks into the room. Santana turns to see the cause of the noise and immediately glances directly into the webcam’s lens, obviously startled and alarmed. 

The woman walks closer to Santana, oblivious to the webcam’s presence, and takes a seat next to her. 

WOMAN

> Good afternoon, Santana. How are you today?

Santana shoots another glance at her webcam before turning to address the other woman directly.

SANTANA

> I’m… _fine_ , Quinn.

There’s a delayed, almost painful pause as the woman – QUINN – waits, perhaps for Santana to ask her how she is. Upon realizing that those three words are all Santana will be saying for now, Quinn busies herself with rummaging through her messenger bag briefcase to retrieve an iPad.

QUINN  
(abruptly)

> Before we get started today, I thought… Are you doing anything after our meeting? Tonight?

SANTANA

> I’m probably just going to go home. 

QUINN

> There’s a quaint wine and cheese bar a few blocks away from campus. Very Italian, very good. 

SANTANA

> That’s, you know. That sounds nice. 

She reaches for a bottle of water and untwists the cap before taking a few sips.

QUINN

> You’ll be my guest tonight; I’ve made reservations for 5PM. I thought that would allocate enough time for us to create a rough plan for our project and walk over beforehand. 

Santana coughs, visibly choking slightly at Quinn’s words. She coughs again and Quinn stretches out a hand, presumably to assist in some way, but she withdraws it immediately and bites her lip, watching Santana as she continues to cough.

Eventually, she recovers.

SANTANA

> No. No _fucking_ way.

Quinn looks down, still worrying at her bottom lip, before looking back up at Santana, emboldened.

QUINN

> I demand to know why you have chosen to turn down my offer.

SANTANA

> Are you fucking with me right now?

She looks around, almost as though she’s expecting there to be some kind of trick video camera recording all of this and she’s being Punk’d, but the only camera is the one fixed on her from her own computer, dutifully recording everything.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> There’s no way that any _sane_ person would treat me the way you have. First you start out by likening me to a _prostitute_ when I’m nothing of the sort. You call me cheap, then infer that I’m ‘lucky’ to be here and that you’re genuinely surprised to see me in this class. You’re the most _insulting_ person I’ve ever met and that’s saying something, because you should hear the shit I spew on the regular. There’s no way in hell I would _ever_ go out on a date with you, Quinn Fabray, even if my life depended on it.  
>   
>  Now let’s get this fucking project over with so we can stop wasting each other’s time.

Quinn clears her throat, looking visibly wounded, before she nods.

QUINN

> Very well. Let’s begin, then.

Santana gets up and leans forward, looking directly into the webcam once more – the expression on her face is nearly unreadable – before shutting it off.

**UPLOADED MARCH 28, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT**

We’re back in the familiar setting of SANTANA’s room. RACHEL is there, too, in her place at Santana’s right.

SANTANA

> Welcome back to _Straight Up Snix_. I know it’s been a while since my last video, but the truth is I really didn’t know how to follow that last one –

RACHEL

> I still think you shouldn’t have –

SANTANA  
(interrupting)

> While _some_ people think that posting that video was a breach of Quinn’s privacy, I say she had it coming. How dare she humiliate me like that –

RACHEL  
(talking over her)

> You only feel like she humiliated you because you told everyone about what she said last December, and because you chose to air that footage even when you shouldn’t have.

SANTANA

> If I didn’t air it, the viewers wouldn’t have known what happened and I would have made you act it out with me. Besides, I thought it’d be enough to shut all of the ridonkulous ‘Quinntana’ shippers up.

This piques Rachel’s interest, visibly.

RACHEL

> And? Has it?

SANTANA

> No. Not at all. I’m pretty sure there’s even a Tumblr about us.  
>   
>  Anyway, the good news is my project with Quinn’s over. We turned it in and even got a good grade, so that’s that. I just have to get through the end of this semester and then I’m free. Graduation and adulthood… 

Santana pulls a face. 

RACHEL

> We’ll be fine.

SANTANA

> Of course we’ll be. Everything’ll be fine.

**UPLOADED APRIL 1, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – DAY**

Instead of the typical establishing shot, we start with a close-up of Santana’s face. She’s breathing heavily, almost as though she’d recently been exerting herself.

SANTANA

> This is not an April Fool’s joke. And this is _not_ a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill.  
>   
>  Quinn knows about these videos. My videos. The ones where I talk about her, show her likeness without her explicit permission and consent, everything. She’s watched them all. 

**JUMP CUT TO:**

RACHEL is next to Santana again, wearing the same sunglasses she’s used in previous videos.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> Santana. I’d like to have a word –  
>   
> 

Rachel obviously falters, looking at Santana hesitantly.

**JUMP CUT TO:**

The sunglasses are gone.

RACHEL

> Are you sure we should be doing this still? I mean, she’s seen these videos. She knows what we do, what I do, when I pretend to be her.

SANTANA

> Just do it or I’ll play both roles, okay? And we both know you’re the better actress.

RACHEL  
(flattered)

> Well – that _is_ true. 

**JUMP CUT TO:**

The sunglasses are back.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> Santana. I’d like to have a word.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)  
(with exaggerated exasperation)

> Fine. What’s up?

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I was doing my quarterly Google search of my own name – you know, to determine the reach, quality, and validity of my digital footprint.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Yeah. Get to the point, come on.

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I found…

She wrinkles her nose in distaste while Santana watches her expectantly.

RACHEL (AS QUINN, CONT’D)

> Does the phrase “Straight Up Snix” mean anything to you?

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> You… you didn’t. 

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I’m afraid I did.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Did you… watch any of them?

RACHEL (AS QUINN)

> I watched all of them.

SANTANA (AS SANTANA)

> Oh. Well.  
>   
>  You know what, YOLO.

**JUMP CUT TO:**

The sunglasses are gone again.

RACHEL

> You did _not_.

SANTANA

> I did. So what?

RACHEL

> Are you twelve?

Santana rolls her eyes, looking away from Rachel and frowning slightly.

SANTANA

> Fuck you.

–

**UPLOADED APRIL 30, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – DAY**

SANTANA has her cell phone in her hand and she scrolls through it while she talks.

SANTANA

> I know, sorry for the long delay again and shit, but I’m a senior in college. What do you expect from me?  
>   
>  Okay, yeah, ‘senioritis’ and whatever. Yeah, right. That’s not a real thing in college. I got so much stuff to figure out, it ain’t funny.  
>   
>  That said, I am _so_ overdue for a break. So I thought it’d be fun to do a Q &A livestream. I announced it about half an hour ago on Tumblr and Twitter and there’s already a few questions coming in.

Santana glances down to focus, momentarily, on her cell phone before looking back up at the webcam.

SANTANA

> Here’s a question from Twitter. “What do you think you’ll do after college?”  
>   
>  Oh, fuck if I know, and fuck you for asking that. Okay, no, I’m just kidding, obviously I’m down with answering since I picked it, right? The truth is I have no idea what I’m going to do after college. Apply for jobs and shit, of course… anything in film or television that’s located in Manhattan, since there’s no way I want to move anywhere else.

She leans forward then, clicking around on her computer. The viewers are treated to a close-up of her face as she navigates on her screen, the contents of which remain unseen to the audience.

SANTANA

> Here’s another one. “How long have you and Rachel been stepsisters?”  
>   
>  Kind of weirdly personal, but I have been airing my life on the internet for four months so I can’t really say I didn’t expect this question. Plus I’ve been asked creepier things, so.  
>   
>  Long story short, my parents – my biological mom and dad, of course – are still kind of on good terms, but my dad was kind of a dick to her when they were married. She still lives in the city, uptown, and Rachel and I live with my dad and his wife, Shelby, in Morningside Heights. Rachel’s dad is totally gay – like, literally gay, not “that’s so gay like ‘that’s so lame’ gay,” and he and his husband live downtown in Tribeca. I bet it’s clear why Shelby and Rachel’s bio-dad split up.

Santana leans in again to scroll through more questions on her computer when suddenly a RINGTONE is audible – it’s “Cold-Hearted” by Paula Abdul. Santana picks her phone up, lifting it back into the shot, and scowls visibly at the device. 

SANTANA

> It’s her. I mean, it’s Quinn. 

She remains silent then and eventually the ringtone stops. Almost immediately, the phone begins to ring again. Santana clenches her jaw, staring at the phone, before she finally gives in. She swipes to answer it, then presses the button for speaker.

SANTANA  
(holding the phone up to her mouth, at a slight distance)

> Quinn. What are you doing?

QUINN  
(tinny, poor sound quality)

> I read on Twitter that you were doing a livestream Q&A. Fascinating use of transmedia to engage directly with your audience.

SANTANA

> I –  
>   
>  That is what I was aiming for.

QUINN

> Yes. Well. I saw that you’d made a point of saying that you wouldn’t answer questions about me.

SANTANA

> That’s still very much the case, Quinn.

QUINN

> My question is. I’d like to inquire why you’ve put a moratorium on discussing me.  
>   
>  If there’s nothing between us, that is.

SANTANA  
(visibly irritated)

> Because there _is_ nothing between us. There’s no ‘if’ about it. And I think it’s incredibly presumptuous, which is just _so_ typical of you, to think that you can call my personal cell phone and try to go around the one clear restriction that I put on this Q &A.

QUINN

> So you’re telling me that you’ll honestly answer any questions, as long as they don’t involve me.

SANTANA

> Yes. You got that?

QUINN  
(challengingly)

> What bra size do you wear, then? 

Santana huffs, audibly, squeezing her phone in her hand due to frustration.

SANTANA  
(stubbornly)

> 36C.

QUINN

> Ah. Yes. That’s what I would approximate for you. For your breasts, rather. From what I could recall, mentally, they –

SANTANA  
(immediately, appalled)

> For fuck’s sake, Quinn, goodbye.

She hangs up before she leans in to end the livestream. 

**UPLOADED MAY 9, 2013**

**INT. SANTANA’S BEDROOM – DAY**

Instead of our usual host, RACHEL is sitting dead-center in the frame. She’s smiling, nervously, into the camera. Her sister is nowhere to be seen and the door is closed in the background.

RACHEL

> My sister’s not supposed to be back for another two hours. She left her computer at home because she just had a test today, so she didn’t see the point in bringing it to campus. I agreed; computers are much too heavy to lug them around all day. Think of the stress on your back. Did you know that the back is very important to your day to day health?  
>   
>  Yes, okay, I’m digressing slightly. 

She takes a deep breath.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

> I’m here because Santana won’t tell you what’s really going on. I think she has feelings for Quinn.

The camera zooms in a little bit more on Rachel’s face; her eyes are wide and her face is open and earnest.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

> My sister’s never going to admit this, but this whole Quinn Fabray thing has really thrown her for a loop. Last night I caught her rewatching some of her old videos. She doesn’t usually do that; I think she was looking for. Looking for clues, or something.  
>   
>  Since she was watching them again, I went back and watched them too. And… she’s going to be so pissed when she eventually sees this, but Santana, if you’re watching this right now, Quinn hasn’t been the only person who’s been rude and mean. You’ve said some things that could be construed as hurtful and I think that both of you should maybe take some time to think about how you relate to other people. I know graduation’s coming up, so… you know, whenever you have time. 

**JUMP CUT TO:**

SANTANA is in the frame now; Rachel is nowhere to be seen. She bites her lip and runs a hand through her hair, looking obviously unsettled.

SANTANA

> Looks like I really need to change my password to something a little more secure, huh?

**UPLOADED MAY 12, 2013**

**EXT. NEW YORK UNIVERSITY GRADUATION – DAY**

–

Instead of the usual computer-mounted webcam, it’s clear from the shakiness of the video and the angle of SANTANA’s arm that she’s recording from her cell phone. 

She’s wearing a graduation cap and gown; the look on her face is both thrilled and nervous. Behind her, members of her graduating class are milling about.

SANTANA  
(loudly, so she’s heard)

> Well that’s that – four years of my life over and done with. I’m thinking this might be the last of my video diaries, too. I’ve been thinking, as my darling sister _Rachel_ felt it was so important to tell you, and it’s time to make a few changes.
> 
> While I've loved doing these video diaries, it's about time I stop passively living my life and actually being active in it. You know what I'm sayin'? And I'm not entirely ruling out making more videos in the future. I just... Gotta get my "real life" on!

Santana smiles a little, almost secretively.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> Oh. And... Before I started recording this, I texted Quinn to meet me here. I hope she doesn’t –

She turns her head slightly, looking at something that’s behind the camera, and uses her free hand to beckon them closer. A few moments later, QUINN enters the narrow frame. She’s dressed similarly, in her graduation finest, and has a nervous look on her face.

QUINN

> Santana. Good day.

SANTANA

> Hey.  
>   
>  Are you really into girls?

QUINN

> I. Um. Technically, I believe I identify as bisexual, though I’ve done self-assessments with my therapist and find that I tend to have stronger romantic connections with women –

SANTANA  
(hiding a smile)

> That might have been a bit too much information, but –

QUINN  
(interrupting)

> But. It was helpful, yes?

SANTANA

> Very.  
>   
>  I’m having dinner with my family tonight, but I might be interested in a late lunch.

QUINN

> I ate before the graduation ceremony.

Santana narrows her eyes at her slightly, but forges on nonetheless.

SANTANA

> I’m trying to ask you out. I mean, as friends. Or… whatever ends up happening.

QUINN  
(visibly startled)

> Oh. I. Yes. That would be… amenable.

SANTANA

> Amenable?

They stare at each other for a moment, sizing each other up. 

QUINN

> Yes. I’d like to. 

SANTANA

> Good. It’s down the street.

Santana begins to walk, but as the shot moves with her, Quinn doesn’t follow. After a moment, Santana walks back to where Quinn is still standing.

SANTANA (CONT’D)

> Come on. Move your ass.

QUINN

> Are you really going to record us walking down the street?

SANTANA

> Why not?

QUINN

> That just doesn’t…  
>   
>  I mean, YOLO. Pay attention to where you’re going, especially when you’re crossing the street.

SANTANA

> That’s… really not how you use “YOLO.”

QUINN

> Explain it to me at lunch. _Without_ your video recorder.

SANTANA

> Demanding.

QUINN

> Yes. I can be, quite.

Santana sighs good-naturedly and turns the camera fully onto her after a very visible eye-roll.

SANTANA

> I’m Santana Lopez, and this is where Straight Up Snix ends. Don’t get all hung up on “Quinntana,” kids – it’s just lunch. I have no idea where it’s going, and neither does Quinn, but we’re just going to try and get to know each other again. Snix out.

**JUMP CUT TO:**

The focus is still on Santana; the footage was, presumably, taken immediately after her final sign-off. 

QUINN  
(offscreen)

> What’s “Quinntana?”

**FIN**


End file.
